


Touch what is mine

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Series: Dark Desires - Mirror!Pinto AU [9]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, M/M, Mirror Universe, Murder, Threesome - M/M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach gets hurt again, and it's Chris' fault. Whoever did this will pay for it, Chris will make sure of that. And he has help.<br/>Part of my Mirror!Pinto Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> he first working title for this was "K/C/Z threesome fic (dammit)". The second working title was "Threesome fic a.k.a. WTF suddenly plot again". Yeah. I really really wanted to write that threesome, just some kinky pron and stuff, and then... plot happened. Again. *sigh* Erm. Sorry. Am really determined this time though...
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, nuh-uh. Just playing with them a little... I promise I'll clean up all stains before I give them back. No insult or offence is intended.
> 
> Also, this is a WIP.

_Chris  
_  
Zach’s face is pale under the harsh light of the hospital room, his dark hair a stark contrast against the white pillow. He’s eerily quiet, too, the only sound Chris can hear is the beeping of the various machines hooked to his lover and the creaking sounds the nurses’ rubber soles make against the linoleum in the hallway. And Zach’s shallow breathing.

Zach is quiet, his graceful body limp in the hospital bed, fingers curled slightly in the bedspread. Chris looks at him and balls his fists, wanting to reach out… but he can’t. Zach is sleeping, he mustn’t wake him. Zach needs his rest.

His lover is still and silent and so pale, white skin and white gown. The only spot of color is the bright redness of his blood, staining the bandage wrapped around Zach’s stomach. It seems almost unnatural against all the white in the room. Zach’s blood.

Chris takes a step forward and presses his lips briefly to his lover’s forehead. Zach doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch when Chris punches the wall above his lover’s head. Zach just lies there, quiet and pale and still, and Chris walks out of legs that seem stiff and wooden. He ignores the doctors and the nurses; Joe will be here soon, he can deal with their questions. Chris can’t be there.

He gets in his car, fumbles the key into the ignition with shaking hands and drives off. He arrives at Zach’s house, it’s dark and empty, lonely without Zach here. He walks into the bedroom, lies down on their bed and buries his face in the comforter. It smells of Zach. Chris inhales his lover’s scent, breathes in deeply. His fingers clench in the bedspread, nails digging into the mattress and Chris screams into the cloth.

Then he stands up, eyes dry, and picks up the phone. Time to find out who did this.

  
 _12 hours ago – Zach  
_  
Zach is still laughing when he leaves his dressing room. He and Anton had a show together today, and one of the patrons managed to evade Kane’s meaty paws and jumped onto the stage. Zach didn’t even see it, he was looking the other way, at some cute student who was blushing and peeking at him through his fingers while Zach danced. Zach had winked at him and grinned wolfishly - he loves it when the innocents watch him, the students and closeted straight boys who’ve never seen a show before. He was just contemplating giving the poor guy a little private show and see if he could make him come without touching him, when he heard the surprised squeak. He’d turned around and there the guy was, lying on the floor with Anton’s high heel pressed firmly into his sternum. Apparently he hadn’t thought small lithe Anton would resist his, err, attempts at seduction. The guy’s face had been priceless, even more so when he’d realized the only thing that kept John from jumping and strangling him with claw-like hands were Kane and Tiny who held him back.

And then Divine had come over, and Zach had to stop dancing because he was laughing so hard while she delivered a rant of epic proportions and stabbed long sharp nails into the guy’s chest. All the other guests were laughing, too, clapping and whistling, and Zach had left the stage with tears in his eyes. Seriously, the guy’s face!

He’d changed and left his room, and now he’s walking down the hallway, whistling softly under his breath. He ambles towards the backdoor for a smoke in the alley behind the club. Chris doesn’t like it when he smokes, but his lover isn’t here today, so he can indulge himself a little, plus Chris will smell the smoke on him, and Zach shivers and licks his lips as he imagines the punishment. He comes to Anton’s dressing room and smiles at the sounds from within, loud bangs of the dressing table against the wall, Anton’s high-pitched mewls and John’s loud grunts. He bangs on the door with a “Having fun in there?” and laughs when John yells “Fuck off!”

Zach walks on, opens the back door and leans against the wall, patting his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. He’s inhaling the first lungful of smoke when he hears footsteps. He looks around, hand reaching for the knife tucked in his waistband and sees a figure drawing closer. It enters the dim light of the lantern above the club’s back door and Zach sees a man dressed in business clothes. He’s tall and handsome, and he smiles at Zach, friendly and easy.

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a light?”

Zach chuckles and reaches for his Zippo. “Sir”, seriously. No one ever calls him that. He shakes his head in amusement. “Sure.”

The man steps up to him as Zach flips the Zippo open. He bends over the small flame, lights his cigarette and then stands straight with a smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Zach pulls on his own cigarette and looks towards the sky. One more show tonight and then he can go home. He wonders if Chris finished his latest assignment yet, maybe instead of going home directly he’ll come to the club to pick Zach up. He could show Chris his new costume. He’ll like it, Zach’s sure. He’ll be horny and jealous, and maybe they’ll fuck in his dressing room again, they haven’t done that for a long time.

The man is still standing close, Zach suddenly realizes. He huffs a breath, slightly annoyed now. He hopes the other won’t ask for his price, he’s not in the mood right now to blow off guys that think he’s a whore, he’d rather think about Chris and what they’ll do later.

“Excuse me…”

The other’s voice is still soft and polite, and Zach rolls his eyes. Any second now the guy will ask how much he takes for a night.

“… you’re Pine’s boy, aren’t you?”

Maybe not. Zach looks at the other and scowls. “Yeah. So what?”

“Oh, nothing…” The man shoves his hands into his pockets and fidgets slightly. “I was just wondering if you could give him something from me?”

“Sure, whatever.” Zach pulls on his cigarette, he’s itching to go back inside. “What is it?”

And then the man is close, really close, Zach can feel his breath against his face, and before he can bring his arms up to shove him back, get him off, there’s a sharp pain in his side. Zach gasps, his cigarette falls from his limp fingers, and the man presses against him, whispers in his ear.

“Just this.”

And there’s more pain, sharp and bright and silver, and the man steps back. Zach looks down and sees the handle of the knife in his side, then there’s footsteps, someone’s running, and he sinks to the floor, back scraping against the bricks of the wall, hands clutching at empty air. Zach breathes slowly, blinks and looks at the knife handle. There are voices now, yelling at him, and hands on his shoulder, but he can’t see their faces. He’s cold now, so cold. Chris will be so mad at him.

And then it gets dark.  



	2. Chapter 2

_Now – Chris_

Chris calls Joe first. Zach’s brother is already at the hospital and he listens to Joe’s furious accusations and promises of death and dismemberment without saying a word in defense. Chris knows what happened to Zach is very possibly his fault, some dissatisfied client or a former target out for revenge, and he certainly can’t fault Joe for reacting this way. He’d done the same after Katie had gotten hurt during that prison riot because one of the inmates had remembered the kind psychologist was the warden’s wife. It’s the reason they don’t talk anymore, he and Katie, but he still refuses to feel sorry for breaking his idiot brother-in-law’s jaw; it was his fault his sister nearly bled to death after all. Just like this is Chris’ fault, and he understands why Joe’s so mad at him. His baby brother got hurt because of Chris and as far as Chris is concerned, Joe deserves to yell at him all he wants. He’ll make it up to them both when he brings them the fucker’s head on a platter.

After Joe has finished yelling and is only breathing hard, Chris calmly explains to him what he’s going to do. He’s going to find the person responsible, find them and make them pay. Slowly. Make them suffer and cry and scream, make them regret what they did to Zach. And he’s gonna enjoy it. Joe grunts an agreement and tells him he better make sure it’s going to be painful. And he wants to watch. Chris certainly can’t deny him that. He promises to let him know as soon as he knows something new and that Joe can help punish the fucker all he wants as soon as Chris finds him. He doesn’t need to see Joe to know his smile is feral as he says he’s looking forward to it. He feels it mirrored on his own face.

They are silent for a few seconds. Then Chris murmurs he should get going and Joe sighs on the other end. He promises to keep Chris updated on Zach’s condition and doesn’t ask why he is not with his lover now, why he left. Chris is glad for that, that he doesn’t need to explain. Chris can’t see Zach right now, can’t look at him in that hospital bed, he needs to move and do something, he needs to focus. He knows that Joe gets it.

When he calls John, he’s only asked if Zach is going to be okay and what can be done to help. Chris doesn’t answer the first one, but the second question is more than welcome. John promises to use his wide-spread connections to try and find out possible suspect, and he’ll make sure that Anton, Divine and all the others at the club look for witnesses. Chris thanks him and hangs up. It was a brief phone call, short and to the point, because they both are professionals and if Chris would have said anything else he’d probably punched the wall again.

Bruce agrees to keep an eye on the police investigation and to make sure he tells Chris if they find out something. Then he awkwardly tries to comfort Chris, and he hangs up before Bruce can get more than a few words out. He can’t deal with this right now. He has other things to do. He takes a break afterwards, sits on the couch and clutches his head. His eyes burn and his throat is tight, but Chris swallows heavily and tries to focus. He can’t break down now, he can’t. He needs to think, needs to try and find out who did this. His latest assignments, was there anyone who could have done this? De Luca, always a suspect, but not really his style, this up and personal and messy. Simms, no, he’s too dumb and too scared of Chris to try anything. Martos, Ewings, Miller, that guy from Barcelona…

So many candidates, so many possibilities, Chris can’t think. Too many suspects.

The phone rings and startles him. Chris flinches badly and fumbles to pick it up from where he dropped it to the floor. He recognizes the number right away.

“Karl?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

Chris laughs hollowly. “Been better.”

A snort. “Yeah, I can imagine. Joe filled me in.”

“Yeah.” Chris slumps back onto the couch and stares at the ceiling.

“Anything I can help with?”

“I got it covered, thanks.”

“Any suspects yet?”

Chris rolls his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, way too many. About everyone I went after during the last two years or so.”

“Shit, kid. You need help. I’ll be over in 30 minutes.”

“No, Karl, wait, I…”

But Karl has already disconnected. Chris throws the phone away and sighs heavily. Great.

  
 _12 hours ago – Tiny_

Tiny can only watch as the medics take care of the kid. He balls his fists and paces, grinding his teeth and glaring at everyone. He’s never felt so useless in his life. The kid is lying there in a large pool of blood, deathly pale as the medics work on him and Tiny can do nothing to help. Kane comes over and stands next to him, they share a grim look. Nothing, he can do nothing.

Several guests of the club stand in a large circle, watching with anxious faces, and Tiny’d like to bash all their heads in because they are crying or whispering and staring and he hates it. This isn’t something they should see, Zach’s body limp and unmoving on the ground, this is not for their eyes. But he can’t, not with the police here, he already has a couple of records for violence, and the kid wouldn’t want him to get arrested anyway. Next to him Kane shifts, Tiny looks over, his friend is just as restless as he feels.

Anton is being questioned by the cops because he found Zach, while his boyfriend hovers and glares. Tiny can relate, the cop is eyeing the kid’s short skirt and high heels with distaste and he’d like to rip the asshole’s sneer right off his face. From the looks of it, John isn’t too far from doing that himself. Tiny growls softly and averts his eyes. John has got that covered. Divine is yelling at the medics to work faster, help Zach, dialect stronger than ever in her distress, and Tiny can understand her, too. The medics seem to be as slow as snails, and can’t they see that the kid is still bleeding? Can’t they _do_ something?

Finally, finally the medics seem to have stopped the bleeding. They take Zach away, put him on a stretcher and drive off, and the police start questioning the others. Tiny’s interrogation is brief; he was busy at the front door and didn’t see anything, so he gets to leave quickly. Kane nudges his shoulder and jerks his head towards the door, Tiny lifts his eyebrows and they leave the… the crime scene together.

Inside Kane punches the wall and Tiny makes a sympathetic face when his friend winces and shakes his bloody fist. His own hand is still bruised and swollen from when he did the same earlier, just after Anton came in with wide dark eyes in a white face and stammered something about Zach being hurt. And then they’d run out and found him, lying there, in that large pool of blood and…

Tiny and Kane look at each other and both nod, then go about to round the guests up and start a few interrogations of their own. Someone has to have seen something.


	3. Chapter 3

_Now – Chris_

Chris really wasn’t happy with Karl coming over to help, but now that he’s here, he’s glad for it – the ex-cop with his insight and experience certainly comes in handy. Karl is objective and neutral while Chris has trouble unclenching his fists and focusing his thoughts on the suspects and away from Zach’s pale face.

Karl sits at the table, making a list of the possible candidates who could have done this while Chris paces the living room and does his best to answer Karl’s many questions. Together they manage to narrow the list down to about 20 names. Then Chris can’t take it anymore and refuses to answer another question about what he has been up to in the last two years. Karl sits there calmly and watches him pace, and when Chris decides he really really needs to hit someone right now he doesn’t complain, just gets up and follows him out of the house.

They are silent on the drive. Chris clutches the steering wheel and doesn’t look at Karl, who watches him quietly. A song starts playing on the radio, some 90s pop song that Zach likes, and Chris twists the off-button so hard it breaks off. He throws it onto the floor and curses loudly, Karl doesn’t say a word.

Chris drives faster and sneaks a look at him. Karl is looking out of the window now, a contemplative frown on his face. Chris licks his lips and focuses back on the street. Karl is silent. Chris raps his knuckles on the steering wheel and sighs.

“Thanks, Karl. For coming with me.”

“No problem, kid.”

Chris sees Karl’s head turn in the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look back at him. “I mean it, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Least I can do, after all that you and Zach have done for me.”

He hears the smile in Karl’s voice and nods in acceptance. They are silent again for a minute. Chris’ gut churns hotly. He clenches his fingers on the wheel and glares out into the night. “I swear, when I find the bastard who did this, I’ll… That fucker’s gonna regret every second of what he did to Zach.”

Karl growls under his breath. “Yeah, we’ll make him pay.” Chris looks over, slightly surprised by the amount of anger in Karl’s voice. Sure, he knows Zach and they got along pretty well every time he and Chris visited Karl at Joe’s, still, he hasn’t expected Karl to take it quite this personally. The ex-cop is staring at him, jaw clenched and fists balled. They look at each other for a moment, then Chris nods and lets it go. He’s glad Karl is with him, and angry Karl is even better. Sure won’t get in his way when Chris gets… messy.

The first name on their list is Randall Wilkins, a guy Chris hunted down six months ago. He’s known for violence and his fondness of knives, plus he tried to stab Chris when he took him, so he seems like a very likely candidate. He used to hang at this rotten bar and Chris really hopes he’ll be there today. He can’t wait to smash his fists into the fucker’s face. Maybe Wilkins is the one responsible, wouldn’t that be sweet… and if Wilkins tries to use his precious blades on him again, even better. Chris knows a trick or two with knives himself. Zach loves watching him practice, and the one time he’d let him try a new blade on his stomach, and… Chris shakes his head and focuses on driving. Better not think about this now.

But the memory of Zach lying on their bed with thin red lines across his pale flesh won’t leave him alone, and now he remembers Zach in the hospital earlier, so pale, and that bloody spot on the bandage over his stomach, and now Chris feels sick. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Chris has a dangerous job, he’s gotten hurt more times than he can count, but he doesn’t care if it’s him. But not Zach, his lover isn’t supposed to get hurt. He has to be healthy and whole, he can’t get hurt. Zach’s precious. It shouldn’t have happened, not to Zach.

“I went to see him in the hospital. I didn’t stay, I couldn’t…” Chris breaks off and huffs a frustrated breath. His throat feels tight again and he swallows around the lump. Karl is watching him, he can tell. Chris blinks a few times and squares his jaw. “He looked so pale. I couldn’t stand to see him like this, so…”

“I know, kid, I know. Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Karl’s voice sounds weary and old. Chris flinches slightly as he realizes what he’s said, and to whom. Jesus, Natalie. “Karl, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay. I just meant I know how you feel, I wasn’t… I get it.” Karl’s smile is more of a grimace when Chris looks at him and winces in apology. Karl shakes his head, his eyes anguished. “Forget it.”

Chris bites his lips and they are silent for a few seconds before Karl speaks again. “And Chris… I couldn’t help Natalie and the kids, but I’ll do my damn best to help you and yours. Nobody should get hurt because of us, it’s not… it’s not right.”

Chris swears softly. “I never meant for Zach to get hurt because of my job, I never…”

Suddenly Karl’s hand is on his shoulder and squeezes firmly. Chris looks at him quickly, then away again. The understanding and sympathy in Karl’s face is too much for him to handle right now, he can’t, he…

“Chris, hey, hey. It’s not your fault, okay? This didn’t happen because of your job or what you did. You didn’t hurt Zach, someone else did, this is that bastard’s fault and not yours. Never yours, okay? Don’t blame yourself, blame whoever did this. You hear me, kid? _It wasn’t your fault._ ”

“You really believe that?” Chris turns his head and looks at him. Karl stares back, face serious and melancholic, and his eyes are dark and empty.

“Not yet. But I think someday I will.”

The rest of their drive is silent.

  
 _Joe_

The doctor asks question after question while Joe clenches his teeth and does his best to answer them calmly. Yes, Zach works at a strip club. No, he’s not a whore and yes, Joe does take offense at the implication. Yes, he’s the only family Zach has left and no, he has absolutely no fucking idea who might have done this and why, but he imagines they’ll find out soon. No, he doesn’t want to leave that to the police and fuck no, he doesn’t want to talk to them. His baby brother is lying in a hospital bed, and Joe will be fucked if he wants to leave him now.

The doc gets offended and babbles about protocol and proper ways of dealing with this and Joe has finally enough of the doctor’s questions. All it takes is a nod at Hammer and the annoying man is bodily removed from the room. Good man, Hammer. Joe closes the door while he and Hotspur stand guard outside and slumps in the chair next to Zach’s bed. Finally alone.

He sighs heavily and looks at his brother. Zach is so quiet. And he looks so small… Like he did back when he was 9 and Joe found him hiding inside their Mom’s bedroom some days after her funeral, cheeks wet and nose bloody. He’d taken him to the bathroom, cleaned him up and let him sleep in his bed, clutching the small frame close and listened to his brother’s silent sobs with his jaw clenched tight so he wouldn’t cry himself. He’d sworn back then to protect his brother at all costs, keep him safe from any harm. The next day he’d shown Zach some fighting tricks and the boy who’d bloodied Zach’s nose had soon learned not to touch him again.

Now though… now Joe can’t just let Zach sleep in his bed and teach him some dirty tricks to make it all better. This time it doesn’t work this way. Joe looks at his brother, at the bloody bandage and grinds his teeth. This time it’s serious.

He gets up and paces the room, pausing every now and then to look at Zach, watch the slow rise and fall of his chest. Whoever did this… whoever did this has to pay. Joe wasn’t there to protect Zach this time, he broke his oath, but he’ll be damned if he won’t help to make that bastard suffer. Chris is out there right now, looking for the fucker that hurt his baby brother, and as soon as he finds out, Joe will be there. He might not be an expert with knives and guns like his brother’s lover is, but he knows some tricks of his own. And he’s gonna use them all.

Not now, though. Now he has to stay here, with Zach. His baby brother shouldn’t be alone right now, and Joe will stay and keep him company. Chris isn’t here, but Joe is. Even if he’s itching to do something himself, he’s not leaving, he’ll stay. Sit at Zach’s side and protect him. And when Zach wakes up he’ll be there, tell him about Chris and keep him from worrying. Watch over him and wait.

  
 _Alex_

It’s a slow night at the bar and she’s polishing glasses because she has nothing else to do. A couple of regulars are shooting pool in the corner and some new folks are sitting at a table far from the bar, but otherwise the place is empty. Alex rolls her eyes when Dick makes the juke box play “Beautiful Day” by U2 and shakes her head when he tries to get her to dance with him. One of the regulars over at the pool table yells something vaguely threatening across the room and Dick, with a bright red face, changes the song quickly before he scurries behind the safety of the bar.

Alex snorts a laugh. Kid won’t make it here long if he doesn’t watch it, but at least he’s smart enough not to upset the regulars even more. Crazy and dangerous people, some of them, she’s seen it. Lynyrd Skynyrd now sounds through the bar and she nods in time with the beat. Much better, and the regulars approve, too. She tells Dick to get a new barrel out of the backroom and he scurries off with while she snorts in amusement. At least he’s eager, if not especially bright. Alex goes back to polishing the glasses. Slow night tonight.

The door opens and she squints through the semi-darkness at the two figures standing in the entry way. One of them stays near the door and the other walks up to the bar, and now she recognizes him.

“Pine. Long time no see. What can I get you? We have some really amazing German beer this week, imported. You want to try? It’s on the house, coz you haven’t been around so long, oh, and for your friend, too, of course.”

Alex realizes she’s babbling and quickly shuts her mouth, before she embarrasses herself further. Jesus, he looks good. All fierce and dangerous, and that leather jacket, and his friend isn’t so bad either. But Pine, damn, he’s hot, and now he’s looking at her and she clutches the rag to her chest and feels herself blush hotly. Oh, those eyes! And now Pine is leaning on the bar and gets really close to her face and she feels a tingle down there. She’d like nothing more than to take him back to her place and let him make her tingle some more, and maybe his friend could come too, wouldn’t that be fun? Oh yes, it would, so much fun… Why oh why does he have to be gay? All the good ones are either… Oh, Pine is talking. What is he saying?

“… maybe some other time, though. Any idea where I could find him?”

“Huh?” Alex knows she’s staring, and she has no idea what Pine was just talking about. But those lips are inches from her face and how is she supposed to listen when she’s imagining that face between her legs?

“Nevermind.” Pine has been looking around the room and now those lips curve into a dangerous smile. “I see him.”

Alex watches him walk over to the pool table and swallows. Damn, he looks good. And those tight pants! It’s really a shame that Pine’s not into women, else she’d hit that so fast she’d break the sound barrier. She sighs and pities herself and all women on this planet. What a loss for them all… The guy that came with Pine drifts closer and she rips her eyes away from Pine’s ass as he settles on a chair at the bar.

“I’ll take a glass of that German beer, honey.”

“Sure,” she murmurs and goes about pouring it absently, still watching Pine, who’s now talking to one of the regulars. Wilkins, she thinks, yeah, that’s the guy’s name. Pine seems angry, maybe Wilkins owes him money? Wilkins certainly doesn’t seem to be glad to see him. Alex hands Pine’s friend the beer and watches, biting her lip. Yeah, they are both angry, and now Pine slams Wilkins against the wall. Jesus, are they about to fight? Pine does some complicated move and has Wilkins’ arm twisted behind his back. The others surrounding the pool table laugh and focus back on their game. Wilkins lets out a pained groan while Pine whispers something in his ear and Alex creeps closer along the bar, trying to listen in. Wow, Pine is strong! And now he’s marching Wilkins towards the back door, pity. She’d love to see some more of that action, Pine sure looks hot when he’s shoving people around who are twice his size. Pine’s friend is gesticulating at her for a refill and she sighs and complies. Pity.

She’s just handed the guy his new beer, he takes a large sip and murmurs appreciatively, when Dick runs up, wide-eyed and panting slightly.  
“There’s a tiny guy beating up a really large guy out back! Should we, dunno, call the police or, or an ambulance?”

Pine’s friend chuckles and takes another sip. “Not if you value your balls where they are, boy.” He clicks his tongue and tilts his head as he savors the taste. He doesn’t seem to be concerned at all that Pine is out there alone with Wilkins who’s a giant and has a lot of knives, so Alex decides she isn’t, either.

Dick looks between her and Pine’s friend and shifts on his feet worriedly. Alex sighs and shakes her head at Dick. “Let them be. Whatever it’s about, I’m sure Wilkins deserves it.”

Dick nods reluctantly, but still looks unsettled and worried. Boy won’t last long in this bar; She gives him another four weeks until one of the bikers scares him off for good. Better for him, maybe, she thinks, but then she’ll have to look for a new employee again. She sighs and decides to think about it later. Dick takes the broom and starts cleaning the floor half-heartedly, still eyeing the back door. Pine’s friend drinks his beer and nods at the taste, and Alex turns back to polishing glasses. Slow night tonight.

Maybe half an hour passes before the back door opens again. Pine walks back in, using a piece of cloth to clean his hands, the cloth has dark stains on it. Alex rolls her eyes at Dick’s shocked gasp, make that two weeks until he runs. She taps another beer and sets it in front of Pine as he steps up to the bar next to his friend. He gives her an absent nod in thanks and drowns the beer in two large swallows. The friend eyes him.

“No luck?”

“No. He’s not our guy. Fuck.” Pine slams the glass onto the bar and curses under his breath. The friend pats his back and gets up from his chair.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

Pine sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

His friend smiles. “We have some more names on that list. We’ll find him and then you can show him what a big mistake he made.”

Pine smiles back, shows sharp teeth and Alex flinches a little at his expression. “Yeah, I’ll make him pay.”

Pine nods slightly and she shrinks back, unsettled by the fury and rage in his eyes. He looks like some kind of predator, like a shark, and she doesn’t know if she should be scared or turned on by the look on his face. Jesus.

Pine walks out of the bar without looking back and his friend follows him after throwing some money on the counter. “Good beer”, he says and walks off. Alex stares after them, half-aware of Dick hovering close and exuding worry and fear. She shakes her head slowly and tells him to check on Wilkins out in the back, looks like they’ll need to call an ambulance after all.

Fuck, whoever did something to piss Pine off, Alex hopes he was smart enough to run fast and far. She certainly wouldn’t want to get in his way when he looks like that. Dangerous, lethal. And hot.

Alex sighs and puts the used glasses into the dishwasher. Lynyrd Skynyrd has ended, Blue Öyster Cult are playing now. Alex hums along to “Vengeance”, one of her favorite songs, and picks up a new glass to polish. The regulars are laughing about their pool game and the new folk are whispering about what just happened. Slow night tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

_Karl_

It takes over one week to hunt down people on the list and… interrogate them. So many names, so many suspects, but one after the other turns out to be innocent. They hit up the 12th name on the list and still no new leads. Chris gets progressively tenser with every day that ends without finding the one responsible. He doesn’t sleep well and has dark circles under his eyes. Karl can only watch him and try to help, offer encouragement and listen to Chris’ furious yelling. Chris paces a lot, is constantly on the move, can’t sit still and Karl is worried. Nothing he says seems to help. Chris doesn’t even listen anymore, and Karl is at a loss.

Chris gets more brutal. Suspects 13 and 14 end up in the hospital after Chris is finished with them, and Karl worries that if they don’t get good news soon, Chris will start killing people. He doesn’t really know how he could prevent that, and he’s not sure he wants to, not with Chris so brittle and close to breaking.

Every night Chris sneaks away to the hospital, stays there until dawn arrives and comes back pale and withdrawn. Chris doesn’t want to talk about it, so Karl doesn’t ask. Joe keeps them updated, and he tells Karl that Chris sits with Zach every night, curled up in the chair next to the bed, watches him and doesn’t say a word. Joe tried to talk to him, but Chris didn’t answer. Zach still hasn’t woken up, Joe says.

Various people call almost every day with updates on the search. They soon get used to Karl answering the phone while Chris stares at the wall and only nods when Karl hangs up and shakes his head. Still no news. Chris stops eating.

Tiny and Kane are still looking for witnesses, but apart from a “suspicious” car that someone saw parked near the backstreet before the… before it happened that wasn’t there anymore afterwards, their search comes up empty. The guy who saw it can’t remember a driver or a license plate. Nobody else saw anything either, but Tiny promises to keep looking.

According to Bruce the police isn’t really looking all that hard into the crime. Karl grinds his teeth when he hears it. Seems like they don’t really care if a stripper gets stabbed. Chris laughs bitterly when Karl tells him and says he prefers to do things his own way anyways. Karl doesn’t say anything, and suspect 16 barely gets out alive. John calls several times, he’s got no news either. He and Anton want to talk to Chris, but he shakes his head and refuses. Karl asks how Anton is doing, and John only sighs and says that he’s worried. Karl can relate.

Finally Chris breaks. Suspect 19 was another bust, another body bruised and bloody on the way to the hospital. Another dead end. Only one left now. They order Chinese for dinner, Chris sits at the table in silence and only pokes at his food. Afterwards Karl settles on the couch where he has been sleeping for the last few days and Chris disappears into the bedroom. Karl lies there with his hands behind his head and thinks about what they might do if suspect 20 proves to be a dead end, too. He’s their last chance.

The house dark and quiet. It feels empty, even with Karl and Chris there, feels… wrong. Something is missing, someone is missing. Karl misses Zach, his laughter and smiles, his and Chris’ banter and he misses Chris. He can’t see his friend in that empty shell inside the bedroom. Karl sighs and looks up at the dark ceiling. They need to find that bastard, he wants his friends back. He needs them. Then he hears it. Soft, muffled sounds coming from the bedroom, almost inaudible. Someone is crying.

He gets up and walks towards the bedroom, one hand trailing the wall of the hallway so he won’t trip in the dark. The door is slightly ajar and he opens it to glance inside. Chris is curled up on the bed, face pressed into a pillow that Karl bets is Zach’s, fists clenched in the comforter and shoulders shaking. Fuck. Karl opens the door further and steps inside. Chris’ crying is muffled in the pillow, but Karl can hear it and he feels his heart clench. He sighs and slides into the bed and lies down behind Chris.

His friend startles badly when the bed dips, but he doesn’t turn around and buries his face even deeper into the pillow. Karl inches closer and wraps his arms around Chris. He ignores the way his friend’s body stiffens at his touch and pulls him closer into his embrace. He murmurs comfortingly, stupid inane chatters of “it’s going to be okay” and “don’t worry”, and finally Chris relaxes and melts back against him. Karl rubs his hands soothingly along Chris’ chest and arms, and then Chris turns around and clutches at him, hides his face under Karl’s chin and starts sobbing. Karl blinks against the tears in his own eyes and holds him close.

They need to find that bastard, and quick. Karl grits his teeth and hopes that the last name on their list is the right one.

\-----

It isn’t. Suspect 20 is not the guy they are after. Karl leans against the wall and watches as Chris realises this, as the knife drops from his friend’s suddenly slack hand while suspect 20 lies on the ground and whimpers. Chris turns towards Karl and looks at him and Karl draws a sharp breath at the expression on his face. Resigned and... lifeless. Then Chris walks off, movements jerky and wooden, without sparing another glance at the sobbing man behind them, and Karl hurries to catch up.

“Chris, wait!”

Chris doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even give a sign that he’s heard him. He gets in the car and starts the engine, Karl has to run to get into the passenger seat before his friend drives off without him. Chris stares straight ahead, ignores Karl and doesn’t react to anything he says. He just drives, face empty and eyes dull, shoulders drawn up and knuckles white where he’s gripping the steering wheel. Karl gives up trying to get him to talk and just watches him. Fuck. What now? Minutes pass and Karl wonders what to do.

“I failed him. I couldn’t find the guy, all those names on that fucking list, and none of them was the one who hurt Zach. I failed him, Karl, I failed him.”

Karl flinches as Chris suddenly speaks. His voice sounds hoarse and full of pain, and Karl reaches a hesitant hand towards Chris’ shoulder, his friend shrugs it off without looking at him. Chris draws a shuddering breath and Karl’s throat constricts. “You didn’t Chris, you didn’t fail him. We’ll find him. We’ll…”

“Will we? Where? Where the fuck will we find him after I’ve just spent over a week beating up all the people who hold a grudge against me and I still couldn’t find the one responsible! Tell me, where should I look now? There’s no one left, Karl! I couldn’t find him and Zach… I failed him! I promised him I wouldn’t let him get hurt, and now...”

Chris punches the dashboard and Karl winces in sympathy. “Hey, now, calm down. We’ll find another way, Chris, I promise.”

“Calm down? How can I calm down if my lover is lying in a hospital bed with a knife wound in his stomach and everybody is waiting for me to find the one who did it!” Chris’ voice breaks and Karl reaches for his shoulder again. Chris ignores his hand, grips the steering wheel tighter and continues: “I let Zach down, I let Joe down, I let everyone down and how can I ever look them in the eye again if I can’t even protect my lover!”

“You did your best, Chris, you did what you could. You can’t protect Zach from everything, and nobody would have imagined that...”

“But I should! That’s why I’m here, to keep him safe!” Chris groans and shakes his head angrily. “Did you know Joe promised me he’d kill me if I got Zach hurt, back then when I first met him? This is all my fault, and I want to fix it, but I can’t! Tell me, what am I supposed to do now? I have no idea who did this to Zach and I will never find out! I failed them all, Karl, and I can’t bear the thought that Zach is lying in that fucking hospital while this bastard is still running free and laughing his ass off because I can’t find him!”

Karl opens his mouth and closes it again. Chris laughs brokenly and drives on. Karl rubs his shoulder and tries to think of what to say. “Chris… I promise you, we’ll find the fucker. The guys at the club are still looking for leads, and Bruce is keeping an eye on the police investigation, there’s still a chance. Don’t give up on me, please. We just need to keep looking…”

“With all due respect, Karl, shut up. I don’t want to hear anything right now.”

Karl snaps his mouth shut and removes his hand from Chris’ shoulder. His friend wipes a hand over his eyes quickly and continues to drive. Karl watches him and clenches his fists. Fuck, they need to find a lead, soon, or who knows what Chris might do.

They reach their destination and Karl isn’t really surprised when he sees the hospital. Chris stops the car and gets out without bothering to take the key out of the ignition. Karl fumbles to get it, locks the car and races after Chris, who strides towards the entrance without looking back at Karl. The elevator ride is silent, and when they reach Zach’s floor Karl slows down a bit. Chris should have a few minutes alone with Zach, Karl’s gonna wait outside.

Chris walks towards the door and ignores the nurses’ shocked whispers at his still bloody hands – maybe he should have made him wash them after the thing with suspect 20. Karl glares at the women and they scatter when they see his face. Good. He smirks. Give the boys some solitude. He’ll stand guard out here, wait for them to…

“What the fuck! Karl!”

Chris’ surprised and angry shout makes Karl hasten to get to the room. What now? Is Zach awake? He enters the room and stops, barely inside the doorway. “What the fuck” sounds about right. The room is empty. Zach is gone.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chris_

Sunlight is streaming through the half-way opened blinds. The bed is freshly made, there are flowers on the nightstand, a glass and a bottle of water next to it. Otherwise the room is empty. Where is Zach?

Chris can’t think. He stares around the room, trying to understand, makes a move towards the door of the bathroom, as if Zach might be hiding in there, but no. He’s not, Zach isn’t here, he’s gone. Chris stares at the bed, at the empty room, and the question rings in his head until he thinks he might be sick. Then another thought pops up, and another, and now the questions chase themselves, one after the other. Where is his lover? What happened? Why isn’t Hotspur or Hammer outside, standing guard? Where is Joe, what happened, did the bastard come back to finish the job, where is Zach, what _happened_?

Karl. Karl has the phone, someone would have called him, but there were no calls, Chris didn’t hear any ringing, where is Zach? He turns around, sees Karl gaping in surprise and is on him before he even realizes. He shoves Karl against the wall, one arm over his windpipe and presses down firmly. His vision grays at the edges, his heart is pounding high in his throat and his teeth are clenched so tight his jaws hurts.

“Where is the phone?” He presses out and shakes Karl with his free hand. Karl looks at him in confusion before his face clears and he understands. Chris lets go of him, breathing heavily and watches with clenched fists while Karl fumbles through his pockets. He finds the phone and flips it open, then his face drops.

“Shit. I put in on silent earlier. 17 missed calls… Joe, all of them. _Shit_.”

Karl takes a step back when Chris nearly screams in frustration. He pulls on his hair and starts pacing. Fuck fuck fuck! That many calls from Joe, trying to reach him, must have been something important, and Chris’ stomach drops as he imagines the worst. What happened, _where is Zach_? Karl watches him worriedly, just stands there with the phone in his hand, and now Chris really screams.

“Well, call him, you idiot! Find out what happened!”

Karl hastens to comply, expression guilty and worried. Chris doesn’t even wait until the call is connected, right after Karl has dialled he grabs the phone and presses it to his own ear. Karl backs away with his hands raised. Chris mumbles “come on come on come on” under his breath, why does it take so long – finally Joe answers and Chris huffs a relieved breath.

“Joe! It’s me, I’m at the hospital, what –”

Joe interrupts him and starts yelling right away. “Where the fuck have you been, Chris?!”

“I was following a lead and Karl had the fucking phone on silent. What the fuck happened, where is Zach?” Chris starts pacing the room. Karl stands near the door, watches and listens.

“Apparently the wrong lead, you fucking prick! That’s what I’ve been calling about for the last two fucking hours, you fucking idiot! But you were busy, apparently, so you missed all the fun!” Joe sounds outraged and Chris grinds his teeth.

“Joe. Calm down. I’m here now. Tell me.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down you asshole! You’ve been off doing hell knows what while Zach nearly dies again, so don’t you dare fucking patronize me, Chris!”

“What. Happened. Joe. Tell me.” Chris clenches his free hand into a fist at the insults, but he doesn’t try to defend himself. It’s his own fault that he wasn’t there.

Joe is breathing heavily, obviously trying to calm himself. “Be glad that Hammer was camping out at the hospital or else God knows what would have happened. Hammer called me, saying there was some guy sniffing around, watching the room…”

Chris jerks to a stop, the hand clutching the phone suddenly cold and sweaty. “Wait, a guy? What guy? The fucker who did this?”

“Apparently! Hammer said he left for a minute to ask the nurse something or whatever, and when he came back the guy was trying to get into Zach’s room!”

God no. “What the fuck! He stopped him, right?” Chris starts pacing again.

“Yeah, the guy ran as soon as he saw Hammer. Fuck, Chris, this has to be the same guy and he came back to finish the job! And you weren’t fucking there!”

Shit. Shit fucking shit. Zach was here, alone, and then that bastard... oh God. But Zach has to be all right, or Joe wouldn’t... he wouldn’t yell at him. Zach is all right. Chris closes his eyes and exhales shakily. Thank God. “Joe. Where is Zach now?”

“I took him home, because he sure as hell is safer here with me than at that hospital with you off doing shit and not protecting him!”

Joe still sounds so furious, and Chris leans against the wall and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Joe, stop it, okay? I know, I fucked up and I’m sorry. Please. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. That doctor of yours is with him and I’m not leaving this house until that fucker is dead. So you better work quickly and find him, or I’ll never let you see Zach again. This is your fault, Chris.”

“I know. God, I know.” Chris slides down along the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. His fault, all his fault. First Zach got hurt because of something he did, and now... Fuck. He couldn’t protect him, again, he wasn’t there. Thank God for Hammer.

“Good.” Joe sounds calmer, apparently satisfied that Chris understands. He continues, voice almost business-like now. “So, Hammer saw the car and got half a license plate, I called Bruce since you were busy, he’s running it as we speak. We should have news soon.”

Half a license plate, that’s great. Really. He just can’t muster the strength to feel hope or satisfaction at these news. He’s tired, and all he can think about is Zach. “That’s great, Joe, thanks. I’ll nail that fucker down as soon as we know who it is.”

“Whatever. And Chris? Don’t fuck it up again, or I’ll end you.”

Chris nods weakly. “Yeah. I know. Is Zach… he really is okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s awake.”

Chris’ eyes fly open and he jerks to a stand. “What?! He’s awake? And you only mention this now?!”

“Well, there have been other things more important, haven’t there, you little fucker?! Yeah, he’s awake. He’s asking for you, too, so you better get your ass here asap.”

He’s awake, Zach’s awake. Chris exhales shakily and shakes his head, feeling slightly dizzy. Thank God. “I’ll be over right away. And Joe? Thanks.”

“Just get here.”

Chris hangs up and stares at the phone for a moment. Karl shifts umcomfortably. “Chris, I’m really sorry, this is all my fault.”

“Forget it, it’s okay. Joe’s right, I should have stayed with Zach, I should have been there.” The dizzy feeling returns and he waits until it passes, until the only thing left are the butterflies in his stomach. He suddenly feels light, all the tiredness gone. “I should get going. Zach is awake and asking for me, so…”

“I heard. That’s great, that’s… I’m glad he’s safe and…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Chris turns and starts leaving, Karl hesitates, unsure he’s welcome. Chris knows Karl blames himself, but he shouldn’t. As Joe said, he’s the one who fucked up. He couldn’t protect Zach, again, and he easily could have lost him. The guilty feeling returns, churns though the butterflies in his stomach. Chris he squares his shoulders, determined to see this through. Zach is waiting for him, and he needs to think about what he’s gonna tell him. And afterwards he’s gonna find that bastard and make him pay for trying to take his lover from him. Make him pay in blood and pain, make him suffer twice as much as they have suffered. He walks towards the door, Karl is still standing near the wall, guilty and insecure.

“Well, are you coming or what?”

Karl breathes a small sigh of relief and follows him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chris_

Joe glares at him when Chris and Karl arrive, and jerks his head towards the master bedroom without saying a word. Chris ignores it, and Dr. Bana’s greeting too. He’s dimly aware of Karl staying behind to give them their privacy and update Joe on their search as he hastens along the corridor. He can deal with them later; he can’t focus on anything but his lover right now. Chris throws the door open and steps inside, not even noticing that he bangs his elbow on the doorknob. He only has eyes for Zach.

Zach, who is lying on Joe’s own bed, propped up on dozens of pillows. Zach, who lifts his head and blinks sleepily, disturbed by the noise. Zach who sees him and smiles, his face lighting up, who’s looking whole and healthy, who reaches a hand for him and breathes his name.  
And Chris stumbles closer, hits the edge of the bed and sinks down on it, clutches Zach’s hand and buries his face in Zach’s shoulder. “I thought I lost you”, he murmurs into his lover’s skin, breath coming in shuddering gasps as he remembers how close it was, how fucking close, how Zach was almost taken from him, twice. He squeezes his eyes shut and shivers, and Zach runs a soothing hand over his back and presses a kiss to his hair.

“You didn’t, Chris. I’m right here.”

They are here, Zach is here, they are together. They lie like that for a while, Chris shuddering and trying to calm his breathing while Zach rubs his back and lets him cling. Zach is warm and familiar against him, soft and strong and alive. His heartbeat sounds even and soothing in Chris’ ears and he’s glad, so glad. He suddenly realizes how tired he is, how exhausted. And how lonely - the bed felt so empty without Zach in it, his heart felt so empty. But now he’s here, Zach’s awake, and maybe he can finally get some rest now.

Eventually, Chris’ tense muscles start to relax, his breathing goes easier and his heart doesn’t seem to be located in his throat anymore. He lifts his head and looks at his lover. Zach gazes back and winks. “Come here often?”

Chris stares at him for a moment, too surprised to say anything. Then Zach’s mouth starts to twitch and his eyes crinkle; soon he starts giggling. And now Chris joins in, laughs and wraps his arms tighter around Zach, feels his lover shake with mirth against him, his feels heart light and warm and not empty anymore, and Chris laughs and laughs.

  
 _Joe_

Joe sees the Doc to the door and listens attentively to Bana’s advice and orders. Make Zach take his pills, make him stay in bed, make him rest, then everything will be fine soon. Joe can do that, take care of his little brother, even if certain others can’t. He’s half-aware of Karl hovering in the background, watching him. He ignores him while he shakes Bana’s hand and nods when the Doc promises he’ll be over again first thing in the morning to check up on Zach. He’s a good doctor, that Bana. A good man.

Joe watches as the Doc gets in his car and drives off, then closes the door softly and leans his head against the wood for a moment. He’s fucking tired, he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. He’s been too worried. And he doesn’t think the worry will stop anytime soon, not until this whole thing is over. Until Zach is safe again.

Finally he turns around and looks at Karl. Joe and the ex-cop have become pretty good friends over the time he’s been living there, but as much as Joe likes the other, he really doesn’t want to hear what Karl’s undoubtedly about to say. It’s...

“Don’t be too hard on him, Joe. He blames himself enough, he doesn’t need you adding to that.”

... exactly what he thought. He snorts and starts walking past Karl, in the direction of his bedroom. He’s got a bone to pick with someone. Karl grabs his arm and not-so-gently jerks him around to look him in the eye. Karl’s face is serious, his eyes dark and dull. “I mean it, Joe. He hasn’t been eating, or sleeping, all he’s been doing is trying to find that bastard. The blame is eating him up, believe me, I know. I know you’re angry, but blame the fucker who did this, not Chris. Don’t do that Joe, please.”

Joe looks at him and swallows heavily. He remembers a night not so many weeks past, when they both had quite a lot to drink and Karl told him his story. He sees the other touch the part of his shirt where Joe knows the locket rests and sighs. Jesus, Karl. But still. “He’s my little brother, Karl. He’s the only one I got left, and if he got taken from me because of something that Chris did, I just couldn’t... I just wanna lock him up here and protect him from anything that could harm him. That way at least he’d be safe, way safer than he’s been with Chris.”

“And what makes you think I would agree to that?” A new voice interrupts him. Joe whirls around and sees Zach, face pale and a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, leaning against the wall of the hallway, like he’s not quite strong enough to stand on his own. Which he isn’t, _fuck_ , what is Zach doing walking around?!

“What the fuck are you doing out of bed?!” Joe shrieks, and steps towards his brother. “Fuck, you are meant to stay in bed, damn it Zach! Do you want to tear your stitches or get an infection or something?!”

Zach shakes his head and moves out of reach, his eyes never leaving Joe’s face. “Leave me alone, Joe. I’m fine.”

Joe glares at his little brother. Stupid idiot child, out of bed and walking around when he damn well knows he should be lying down, should be resting and trying to get better! He moves again to grab Zach’s arm and bodily drag him back to bed, but his brother closes a tight hand around his forearm before he can touch him. Joe stops, surprised. Zach never resists him, he always does what Joe says, he never...  
“Don’t touch me, Joe. I’m serious. Tell me, why do you think I’d let you lock me up in here to ‘protect’ me? Do you think Chris can’t do that? Do you think I’m not safe when I’m with him?”

And suddenly Joe’s angry, really angry. How can Zach be so naive?! “Damn right you aren’t! Just look at what fucking happened! If it wasn’t for Chris, you’d never gotten fucking hurt in the first place!” Joe is yelling now, and he spares a fleeting, thankful thought that he sent all his employees home earlier. This isn’t something they should hear. This is between him and his brother. “He doesn’t keep you _safe_ , Zach, he’s the reason you got hurt, that you got a fucking knife in your stomach! If you were rid of that asshole, you’d be safe and I could stop worrying! And if I have to lock you up to keep him away from you, I damn well will! At least that way he can’t get you hurt!”

“Joe.” Karl’s voice is quiet, but it stops the next words in Joe’s throat. Zach hasn’t said anything during Joe’s tirade and, now that he looks at his brother, he suddenly realizes that Zach is standing up straight, no longer leaning against the wall, fist clenched at his sides and trembling slightly. His face is pale in the light of the hallway, his eyes are wide and dark as he looks at Joe without blinking.

“Joe. Brother. I love you with all my heart, but don’t do this. Don’t threaten to take him away from me. Don’t make me choose between you and Chris, I can’t do it. I just can’t. But if you try to come between me and him, you’ll force me to. And I don’t think I’ll choose you. He’s my life, Joe, I can’t give him up. Not even for you. Don’t try to make me.”

Zach’s eyes are shining with suppressed tears, but his face is determined and dead-serious. Joe looks at him and feels his heart beat in his throat. Jesus, Zach, Jesus... he only wants to keep his brother safe, to protect him, he didn’t mean to drive him away. But it seems like he’s doing that right now, he’s hurting Zach. He’s hurting him because he’s been too selfish, wanted Zach all for himself, not have to share him with Chris. Chris who got him hurt, yeah, but hasn’t Joe hurt Zach too? And hasn’t Chris kept Zach safe all these other times, had protected him and killed and almost died for him? Had done all the things that Joe couldn’t do, because he wasn’t there when all those bastards had tried to hurt him... Chris was there then, and Joe wasn’t. Yeah, he fucked up earlier, but who doesn’t? When that bastard Winters came after Zach, Joe hadn’t been able to protect him either. But Chris is trying, Joe knows that. Zach trusts Chris to protect him, like he did his brother before. Before, when Zach needed Joe, not Chris. Not Joe anymore now, now he has Chris.

Karl has disappeared at some point to give them their privacy. Joe hasn’t even noticed. He’s been focused on Zach - his little brother, who’s looking at him with sadness and determination in his face, ready to do the unthinkable and leave Joe if he tries to take Chris away from him. Leave him... Joe sighs deeply, his shoulders slump. He looks at the floor.

It’s hard accepting this, that Zach doesn’t need him anymore like he used to do, that there’s someone else now who takes care of him and protects him. It’s hard. But Joe knows he has to learn to accept it, accept Chris properly, stop seeing him as one of Zach’s random flings, as someone who’s around for a while and then leaves again. ‘He’s my life’, Zach said, and that... that is something he’s never said about anyone before. Chris is Zach’s life, his other half, just as Zach is Joe’s. His Zach, his little brother. Not so meek and shy anymore, no, not holding his hand and looking up at him, letting Joe take care of him like he’s always done. No, standing alone, without Joe’s help, angry and confident and determined. Not so little after all...

When Joe looks up again Zach is still watching him. He’s biting his lip, shaking slightly. And now Joe sees how sad and troubled Zach really is, insecure and worried, fearing that Joe would indeed force him to choose. It calms his aching heart a bit, Zach is still his little brother, he always will be, and if he needs Joe’s approval and support, he’ll get it. Zach will get anything he needs, anything. And if that means he’s got to forgive Chris and accept him properly, Joe will do exactly that. For Zach.

Joe sighs and moves towards his brother. Zach is still eyeing him worriedly, but he relaxes as soon as Joe wraps his arms around him. He holds Zach close, as tightly as he can without putting pressure on his wound. Zach puts his own arms around Joe and buries his face in his neck, Joe inhales his brother’s smell and closes his eyes, clutching him a bit tighter. “I just want you to be safe and happy, Zach. That’s all I want.”

“I know, Joe. I am. I am happy, Chris _makes_ me happy.”

Joe sighs again and rubs his brother’s back. Zach’s slender frame seems to almost disappear in his big arms, like it did when he was little. But Joe knows it’s time to admit to himself that Zach can take care of himself, he’s seen it often enough. “I know he does. It’s just... big-brotherly instincts, you know? But if you’re happy, I can accept that. Doesn’t mean I won’t fuck his shit up if he breaks your heart, but... I know you love him, and he loves you, so I’m glad for that. I’m glad you have him so, you know, you have my blessing and all.”

He feels Zach’s smile against the skin of his neck. “Thank you, Joe. Means a lot.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Joe pulls back, lets his hands rest on Zach’s shoulders and looks his brother in the eyes. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Zach smiles softly and reaches up to touch Joe’s right hand. “Yeah, I know. Love you too.”

“Good. And now you better get back to bed before you tear your stitches and Bana kills me because I let you walk around.”

Zach rolls his eyes and sighs in mock exasperation. “Yes Joe, of course Joe, right away Joe.”

Joe grins and cuffs the side of Zach’s head. “Brat.”

Zach scowls exaggeratedly and shoves him back in retaliation. “Jerk.”

Joe slings an arm around his brother’s shoulder as they walk back towards his room. They reach the door and Joe holds Zach back before he can enter. He looks at his brother, searches his face and hesitates a bit before asking: “We’re good?”

Zach smiles slowly, but his eyes are serious. “You sometimes are an intrusive bastard who can’t accept that I’m not 12 anymore, but I know you mean well. So yeah, we’re good.”

Joe nods, relief and sadness battling in his heart. “You’re my brother. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop worrying and want to force you to do what I think is right for you, but I promise I’ll try.”

Zach nods, too. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Joe smiles a bit crookedly. “Fair enough.” He heaves a sigh and shakes his head slowly. Fuck, he needs a drink, what a day. But now Zach’s safe and happy and on the way back to health, and this day is finally over.

“You better go in now, I’m sure Chris is wondering where you went.”

“He’s asleep, finally.” Zach’s voice is soft. “I don’t think he slept all week...” He looks troubled again now, worried for his lover.

“Then you really need to get in there, I bet he’ll sleep better if you’re with him. I know I would.”

Zach nods and opens the door. He’s about to enter the room when he decides otherwise and turns towards Joe again. And suddenly there are warm lips on his cheek, Zach presses a soft kiss there before he steps back and smiles. Joe is gaping, stunned. He touches his cheek in wonder and stares at his brother. Zach hasn’t done that in forever, not since he was little and Joe read him bed-time stories and stayed in his room until Zach had fallen asleep... Joe feels a sudden sting in his eyes. He blinks against the tears, his own smile wavers slightly. Jesus, Zach, today he almost lost again.

The other’s smile is warm and gentle. “Night, big brother.”

Joe clears his throat and manages to sound not too hoarse when he speaks. “Night, kiddo. Sleep well.”

“I will.” Over Zach’s shoulder Joe can see Chris curled up on the bed, sleeping soundly. Looks like he really needed it. Zach looks at his lover for a moment, eyes soft. “With him, I will.”

He gives Joe another smile and steps into the room. Joe watches him, and before he even notices himself, his arm has shot out and grabbed Zach, stopping him from closing the door. Zach looks at him in confusion and slight annoyance, and Joe fumbles for words for a moment. He’s not really sure what made him stop Zach. His brother looks towards his lover, then back at Joe, he lightly pulls on the arm that Joe is still holding and cocks his head, a touch more annoyed now. “What now, Joe? I’m tired.”

“Chris, he’s your... your life?”

Zach’s smile is soft and gentle, and in his eyes is a look that Joe has never seen before. This look, this smile, this glow in Zach’s face, it’s all because of Chris, _for_ Chris.

“Yes, my life. My everything.”

Joe lets go of Zach’s arm and nods weakly. “Good,” he murmurs, slightly embarrassed. He’s not sure why he asked again, maybe just... just to hear one more time that Zach really is happy. Zach takes his hand and presses it briefly, then walks over to the bed and slides in next to Chris. Joe stands in the door and watches them for a short while, how Zach wriggles into Chris’ arms and winces slightly when his wound stings. Chris doesn’t wake up, but as soon as he feels Zach against him, he curls himself around Zach protectively, tightening arms and legs around his lover’s body as if he feared Zach might disappear again. Joe sees it, sees Zach press a kiss to Chris’ shoulder and sees his smile, then he closes the door and walks away. ‘He’s my life’. Yes, he can accept that. He doesn’t have to like Chris, but for Zach, he can accept him.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chris_  
Chris jerks awake in the middle of the night. The room is silent and dark and he sits there, in bed, breath heavy and heart pounding. Next to him Zach stirs and ‘mm’s sleepily. Chris rests a hand lightly on his lover’s shoulder, reassuring himself that Zach’s really there… The other turns into his palm and Chris presses a shaking hand to his eyes. Nobody there, they are safe. Zach’s safe. Jesus.

He flops onto his back, stirring Zach, who grumbles but doesn’t wake up. His lover curls into his side and Chris moves his arm so Zach can rest against him. Zach sighs contentedly and sleeps on. Chris rubs his chin and looks up at the dark ceiling. It’s getting to him, these last days, the constant worry, the threat and danger. Makes him freak out about nothing. He huffs a quiet laugh. Makes him wake up in the middle of the night, thinking there’s an attacker in the room. Makes him sleep with a knife under his pillow when he’s perfectly safe here, in Joe’s house, nobody knows they are here. Stupid…

Next to him Zach stirs again and raises his head to look at him. His lover’s hair is tousled and the pillow creases have left a delicate pattern on his cheek. Chris smiles at him and pokes him on the nose. “Hey.”

Zach blinks sleepily and yawns. “Hey yourself. Why are you awake? It’s not even morning yet…”

Chris runs a hand over Zach’s cheek, down to his neck, along a shoulder, an arm, down to his fingers, which instantly curl to grasp his. “Thought I heard something.” he murmurs and focuses on the feel of Zach’s skin under his palm. He can’t stop touching him.

“Aww, did you have a nightmare? Did it scare you?” Zach snickers. “You big baby…”

“Shut up!”

Zach laughs and evades Chris’ pinching fingers. “Make me.”

Chris stops moving. Zach watches him from dark eyes.

Nothing he’d rather do.

They are kissing, Zach’s hands in Chris’ hair, mouth opening easily under Chris’ tongue. He cups his lover’s chin with one hand, the other resting lightly over the bandage, thumb stroking gently along the edge. Zach smiles against his lips, pulls him closer, nips at his bottom lip. Chris deepens the kiss, tongue thrusting in and out, curling, tangling, tasting. Zach moves on hand lower, trails it over his back, over his ass, over to the front, fingers playing along the waistband of his pants. Chris gasps into his lover’s mouth, bites at him, presses his rapidly hardening dick against Zach’s groin.

Zach pulls back to breathe and chuckles. Chris props himself up on his elbow and watches him, trails his free hand along Zach’s face and wraps it lightly around his throat. Zach smiles and rubs against him, fingers nestling at Chris’ pants. He raises his hips to help and presses down again as soon as his dick’s free, ever mindful not to rest his weight on Zach. The wound…

A warm palm wraps around him, Chris moans at the contact. Zach watches him, watches and strokes, firm and sure, just how he likes it. That little twist at the tip, thumb pressing into the slit, down again, cups his balls, up again, over and over. Precome’s slicking the way, Chris starts thrusting into his lover’s hand, bends down to nip at Zach’s throat. His lover gasps and arches his neck to help and Chris bites down gently. Perfect.

Zach isn’t hard, he suddenly realizes. Dick soft against his, not even a twitch. What the fuck? Chris pulls back and clamps a hand around Zach’s wrist. Zach looks confused for a moment, but then gets it. “Meds,” he murmurs, “Doc said it was normal…”

Chris frowns. He doesn’t want to do this, not if Zach’s not enjoying it, too. But Zach touches his face and smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Let me do this for you…”

And he starts stroking again. Chris shudders and his eyes fall closed. “Zach, wait, we can…”

“Shh,” his lover whispers and wraps his free arm around Chris’ neck. “Let me. I want to.”

How can he say no to that? And Chris surrenders, lets Zach do whatever he wants with him. Zach smiles, kisses him. The hand on his dick speeds up, grips him firmer. Chris shifts and moves, can’t stay still, thrusts into Zach’s fist. So good, so warm, so familiar... Zach rolls his balls in his hand, lets his fingernails rake along Chris’ aching length, squeezes him just so, and Chris is gone. Moaning and gasping, hips snapping forward, pressing his lover into the mattress, almost too hard, watch the wound, groans his lover’s name, Zach, Zach, and comes.  
Zach strokes him through it, gentles him down, kisses him and tells him I love you. Chris shudders and hides his face in Zach’s neck. They stay close, sharing kisses. Eventually Chris fumbles on the floor for his shirt and wipes them both off. Zach stretches languidly beside him and Chris has to stop and watch for a moment. Beautiful.

Zach wraps himself around Chris again, tucks his nose into his neck and smiles against his skin. Chris kisses his head and tugs him closer. Arms around each other, safe. Where they belong.

  
 _Joe_  
The kids have been sleeping all morning, but now it’s time to wake up. Joe knocks on the door, no response. He opens it and peers inside. A heap of blankets, two pairs of feet poking out from underneath it. Joe steps closer and looks down at the two love-birds. Zach seems to feel his gaze and raises his head.

“Morning…”

“It’s past noon, you lazy fuckers.”

“Hmm?” Zach stretches, self-satisfied grin on his face. “Is it? Didn’t even notice… Seems we got a little carried away last night.”

Is that a hickey? Ew. Little brothers should not have sex, ever. Over Zach’s shoulder one blue eye opens and glares at Joe. Joe glares back. “Get your asses out of bed, we got news. And you better not have torn his stitches, pal, or I will end you.”

Zach rolls his eyes. “Relax, Joe, I’m fine. Better than fine, actually…”

Joe rolls his own eyes and escapes the room as Zach slides under the covers again and the giggling and the kissing starts. Seriously. Eww.

  
Zach pouts until he’s allowed to join the others in the living room. Neither Joe nor Karl or even the Doc can make him stay in bed, now that his boyfriend’s there. Chris wraps possessive arms around him and glares at Joe’s newest actor serving the tea until the boy gets all flustered and almost drops the tray. Joe pats him soothingly on his ass as he flees from Chris’ narrow-eyed stare. Boy wasn’t even looking at Zach, but Chris is a little on edge, it seems. Not that that’s a surprise, really, with all the stuff that has happened lately.

Zach snickers and tugs Chris’ arms tighter around himself. “Don’t scare the kids, Chris, it’s not nice. He won’t be able to get it up for his next scene and then Joe’ll have to fire him…”

“Shouldn’t be looking at other people’s boyfriends, then, the little bastard… I’ll rip his eyes out next time.”

At the door the tray clatters to the floor and a terrified squeak signals the boy’s hasty escape. Karl smirks in his chair next to Joe, Zach starts laughing. “Oh, kinky! I could wear them on my key chain…”

Jesus _Christ_. “Would you stop the love-talk for a minute? We got big news. Zoe called, they got a match for the license plate…”

Zach stops laughing, Karl sits up straight and Chris is immediately, suddenly, dead-serious. They are all watching Joe now and he has to take a moment to breathe. They all want that bastard dead, Joe knows this, but Chris… Jesus, Chris’ eyes. They are bright, angry, no, furious. Murderous. And that’s what Chris is, right? What this will end in? Murder. No, not murder. Retribution. Joe has no problem with that.  
“Who?” Chris. Balling his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white. Joe knows what that’s like, his own fists want to clench and hit and hurt, especially with Zach sitting there, one hand unconsciously rubbing his stomach. But he knows that they have to focus, clear their head, control their feelings, or this could go very, very wrong. It’s hard, Joe is aware of that, and the dark coil of rage in his on stomach twists and turns, lets his hands shake if he’s not careful, but they have to. Be calm, be focused. Be calm… Karl shifts restlessly. Joe’s glad he’s there, maybe he can help calm Chris down. Anger might get in the way otherwise, make him less careful, make him get hurt.

“Who is it, Joe? Who hurt Zach? Tell me, right fucking now.”

“Chris,” a murmur from Zach. “relax, baby.”

He rests a soothing hand on his lover’s arm, seems the kid knows this. His brother’s lover grinds his teeth, but makes a conscious effort to calm down. Good.

Joe clears his throat. “Okay… it was only a partial plate, as you know. But Zoe knows this guy with the police, and together with Hammer’s description of the car, model, color and so on, she was able to narrow it down to four suspects. Not ideal, but pretty good chances. One of them drove that fucking car.”

Zach exhales slowly, hand rubbing his stomach. Chris doesn’t look at him, gaze focused on Joe. And oh, he can see why Chris got his reputation… Jesus. He’s deadly calm now, anger still burning bright in his eyes, hand clamping his lover’s tightly, but… calm. Good. Joe hopes this is good.

Karl’s still quiet in his chair, but his hands rub the armrests restlessly. Back and forth, and Joe gets it. He needs to move, too. Move, get going, find that bastard and…

“So what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

But it’s not Chris who says that, it’s Zach. His little brother, who still has a hand on his stomach, who’s still hurt and no fucking way…  
Zach raises his eyebrows as three faces turn to look at him. He looks confused by the sudden attention for a moment, then his face falls.

“Oh, hell no!”

  
Joe threatens, Karl tries reasoning, Chris attempts to stare his lover down. Nothing works, Zach is adamant he will not stay behind. They plead and argue and shout, but still the kid crosses his arms and glares and refuses to listen. In the end they have to get the Doc to help, who explicitly forbids Zach to go out and exert himself. Joe’s brother sneers and looks murderous, but eventually throws his hands up in surrender. Chris still has to bodily force him back into his room, ignoring the furious whispers. Zach is not happy with them all. They are probably gonna regret this later, but all three of them agree: there’s no way in hell they are gonna take Zach with them now. Not if he’s still hurt, not if this might get dangerous. And there’s a very big chance it will. Bastard already tried to kill the kid twice, neither of them is gonna let him try a third time.

They stop at Chris’ apartment for a quick visit to his very secret, very illegal and very impressive weapons stash. Joe is content with a tazer and a Beretta, Karl fondles the barrel of a sniper rifle and Chris starts hiding knives in the weirdest places.

They make a plan. First only watching, Chris close, Karl and Joe in the shadows, backup. Chris talking to the target, see if the guy recognizes him, Karl and Joe watching for hidden signs. Ready to go if he does. If he doesn’t , if it’s not their guy, they’ll leave, no harm done. If he recognizes Chris, if he flinches, if he betrays himself, then… then they won’t leave. Quite the opposite. And that bastard will regret the day he was born.

Stocked up and ready, they stop and look at each other. Chris shifts from foot to foot and licks his lips, eyes dark and fiery. Karl’s face is blank, but there’s an unholy glint in his eyes. And Joe… his hands are sweaty and shaking, there’s a dull roar in his ears and his blood seems to sing. It’s time. Payback. Finally.

Karl smiles. Chris’ grin is feral, Joe bares his own teeth in response. “Let’s do this.”

  
 _Guy Nr. 1_  
“Shit shit shit _fuck_ shit!”

Jesus, he’s so late, so fucking late, he’ll never get there on time, and then what? Then that bitch Miller will get the promotion, and he won’t, and then and Alison will leave him, she’s been eyeing that asshole Frank for weeks, says he’s got attitude, and then she’ll leave him and he…  
Fuck! Where did he park his car?! God, he can’t be late, he just can’t!

Bill curses as he drops the manila folder, nervous sweat making his hands slippery. He continues to curse and bends to pick it up while trying to balance his coffee, his car keys and his briefcase. Jesus fuck, why didn’t the alarm go off?!

Bill straightens again, fuck, he spilled his coffee! But there’s his car, finally, thank you, if he breaks the speed limit the whole way to the office, he might just make it. Of all days to oversleep…

He runs into a brick wall and ends up on his ass, folder and coffee and car keys and briefcase scattered around him. Fuck!

He looks up and finds a guy looming over him. Oh, not a brick wall, then. But close. Jesus, what a jackass. “Watch where you’re going, jackass!”

The guy glares down at him. What’s his problem?! Bill curses and starts picking up his things again. The guy that bowled him over makes no move to help him. Figures. Jerk.

He stands up. The guy’s eyeing him weirdly. What the fuck? Brian sneers and walks around him.

Jesus _fuck_ , he just can’t be late today!

~~~~~  
 ~~William Carmichael~~  
~~~~~

 _Guy Nr. 2_  
“Keep working, asshole!”

Ollie rolls his eyes and turns back to his mop. Fucking hard-ass guards. He was only taking a _break_. Four months down, still six more to go. He can only hope they’ll let him out early. Fucking mopping.

Prison _sucks_.

~~~~~  
 ~~William Carmichael  
Olliver Dennings~~  
~~~~~

 _Guy Nr. 3_  
Sugar can’t wait to get home and finally take those damn shoes off, her heels are killing her! For the next show she’ll definitely use the barstool again, she simply can’t stand on her feet for two whole hours anymore. Ahh, to be young again… like the pretty young thing standing next to her car. Oh, he’s a cute one, isn’t he?

Sugar increases the rotation of her hips and hopes her make-up isn’t too smudged. It’s so hot on the stage, it always melt off and this guy… mmm. Very handsome, that one. And kinda… blocking her car door. A fan, maybe?

“Can I help you?” She flutters her eyelashes and lets her voice sound throaty. _Hook_ …

He smiles. Mm, nice smile… and those eyes, God! “I’m looking for someone…”

“Well, you found me. Your lucky day…” Sugar subtly pushes her chest out. _Line_ …

He laughs. His eyes crinkle at the corner and she smiles back at him. Very handsome, this guy…

“I’m actually looking for a man… need to ask him something. A guy named Eliot Schuster?”

Sugar sighs. “I’m Eliot Schuster…”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Oh! Um, sorry…”

“It’s okay, I always get that… so, you found me. What do you want to ask? I hope I can help…”

He chuckles but shakes his head. “Um, nevermind. Sorry I bothered you. Have a nice night.”

 _Sunk. Fuck._

“Wait! I…”

But he’s already gone. Dammit. She must be losing her touch. Sugar pouts and turns back to her car. She can’t wait to get home and into bed. Shower first, though. Stupid glitter.

The guy was probably gay anyway.

~~~~~  
 ~~William Carmichael  
Olliver Dennings  
Eliot Schuster~~  
~~~~~

  
Only one name left.

TBC…


	8. Chapter 8

Karl squints against the bright morning sun and watches the row of houses. It’s a nice neighborhood, and with the sun only just rising the houses look all the more colorful and friendly. Tidy gardens, carefully kept lawns, no fences. Children’s toys strewn here and there, a set of swings, there a basketball hoop, a lonely set of stilts. A nice neighborhood, a perfect place for families and their kids. This place? This is where their guy lives? He knows these neighborhoods from his police days, neat little families in neat little houses, the worst that happens here are garden parties that get a little too loud, maybe an argument about a dog that dug up the neighbor’s lawn. Here? But a friendly façade can hide a lot, he supposes. Just look at Chris, that pretty open face, these big blue eyes, no one who doesn’t know him would be able to guess what he does for a living.

So, here he lives, their guy. Daniel Hayes, the last name on their list. Their last chance. What if it’s a bust, like the others? What if it’s not him? Karl doesn’t know what they’ll do then. What Chris will do. Better not think about it. No, it _hasto_ be Hayes.

There! That’s his house. Karl sees Chris stiffen in the passenger seat and Joe too is gripping the steering wheel tighter. Karl himself draws a controlled breath and consciously relaxes his hands. Careful now.

Joe slows the SUV down and three heads turn to watch Hayes’ house. Karl’s eyes flit from the small yellow rubber boots next to the front door to the sandbox on the front lawn, the ladies’ bicycle leaning against the wall and the car parked in the driveway… the car… he frowns. Huh.

“That’s not the car.”

“Hm?” Chris sounds distracted, from the way his eyes are moving he’s probably already planning his way into the house. Karl doesn’t think he’s noticed the car or the signs that there’s a kid in there. Not good, he’s got to stop him before he does something stupid.

“I said that’s not the car from the alley. This is an entirely different model, color’s wrong, too…”

“Wife’s car, then. Or he already dumped it,” Joe grunts, voice tight, “I don’t care, let’s go and get that bastard.”

“Woah, hang on, boys.” Karl grips both their shoulders in a tight grasp. “Slow down, okay? Let’s think this through first.”

They are all on edge, he gets that, he’s coiled tight as a spring himself, wants nothing more than to get out of the car and smash his fist into the asshole’s face, but somebody has to keep his cool here and it obviously can’t be Chris or Joe. But as much as the bastard deserves to die, not here, not now. Not… not in front of his wife and kid. Not that. Karl thinks fast and pats his pockets to see if he brought it, where is it… ah, there. Good.

“We gotta figure out how to do this. Joe, you and Chris park in front of the driveway, block his car, I have an idea. Let me do a little recon first, okay?”

Joe opens his mouth to protest, but Karl talks over him. “I know we all want to kill that bastard, but I’m not going in there guns blazing. There’s a kid inside, we’re not doing this here, got me?”

That stops them, good. He’s not dragging the kid into this, no matter who his or her dad is. No child deserves that, to be punished for the sins of their parents. He swallows heavily and breathes deep and even. Joe looks at him and Karl lets his hand fall away from where it touched his necklace, embarrassed. The other eyes him for a second, then sighs and nods his agreement.

“Okay, Karl, okay. We’re not doing this here. We’ll wait.”

Chris slumps slightly. Karl eyes him while Joe turns the car around and lets it roll towards Hayes’ driveway. Kid hasn’t said much during the last couple of hours, since the fourth name turned out to be a bust. Just… sat there, quietly, staring out of the window, face stony and eyes blank. His hands are shaking slightly, Karl notices, and now one reaches up to his necklace, pulling it out from where it’s been hidden beneath his shirt. Karl watches Chris’ fingers clench tightly around the pendant, a small white shape, what is that? It’s Zach’s necklace, the one with the bone, the one Chris made him. Karl smiles slightly when he sees it and rubs the kid’s shoulder.

“We’ll get him, promise.”

Chris doesn’t answer, gives no sign he’s heard him at all, but the shoulder he’s touching loosens slightly and he hears a soft exhale. Karl grips him tighter for a moment and then lets go. There, better. Kid needs to relax some.

Joe turns off the engine and twists his head to look back at Karl. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

Karl gives Chris’ shoulder another pat and waits until the kid, too, has turned around towards the backseat. He rubs his hands businesslike and thinks for a moment. The plan.

“I’m gonna go talk to the guy, try and find out if he’s got another car in the garage or something. You two stay here and watch, Chris you see if you recognize the guy. Let me handle this for now, okay?”

“What, you’re just gonna talk to him? How do you think you’ll get him to tell you a thing? If he’s the bastard who hurt my brother, he won’t tell you jack shit, Karl!”

Karl grins. “Oh, he’ll talk to me, promise. If he sees that…” and he holds up his police badge.

And suddenly, Chris laughs. Loud and full of mirth. “Karl, Karl… Weren’t you supposed to give that back when you quit? You stole it?”

Karl shrugs. “I’m a criminal now, I can steal stuff.”

Chris snickers and lets his head flop against the headrest. “Yeah, you can. I’ll even steal you back your uniform to go with your badge, after all this is over. Bet Zach’d like to see you all dressed up.”

“It’s a date,” Karl says and opens the car door. “But don’t forget the handcuffs, I’m gonna need them when I arrest you both for lewd behavior. Full cavity search included, of course.”

Chris’ intrigued look and Joe’s outraged “No talking about my brother’s sex life in front of me!” makes him grin. Then he turns and ambles towards the house, just another police officer on duty, nothing suspicious about him…

Karl freezes. The front door opens and a man steps out.

Hayes.

 

\-----

 

Hayes is around thirty, already balding, glasses slipping down his nose as he tries to handle his briefcase and the baby carrier at once. He’s smiling down at the baby inside, obviously talking to it, there’s a small green handprint on his shirttail. A soft guy, innocent and… normal. Hmm.

Karl turns around to look back at Chris, seeing the puzzled frown on his friend’s face. Then the kid’s face falls, weariness and disappointment and powerless anger clearly visible. Karl forces down a sigh. No, it’s not their guy. _Fuck_

 

\-----

 

Hayes is not the one they’re after. Damn it all to hell. Karl clenches his fists and closes his eyes for a moment. What now? What the fuck are they supposed to do now?

“Can I help you?”

Karl opens his eyes and turns around. Hayes is smiling at him, polite and friendly, unsuspecting and guileless. Innocent.

“Officer? Are you all right?”

What? Oh, the badge is still in his hand. Karl hides a sigh and manages a smile. Might as well ask, although fat good it will do them. This is not their guy, but Karl just doesn’t know what else to do now.

“Yeah, sorry, seems I got too little sleep last night. Daniel Hayes, right?”

Hayes nods and sticks out his hand to greet him, then remembers he’s holding his briefcase and puts it down quickly, blushing slightly. Karl’s smile turns a bit more real. Hayes manages to shake his hand without dropping the baby carrier and then steps back to squint at him near-sightedly. “That’s me. Are you looking for someone, officer?”

“Actually, I am.” Funny how his all-business-police-officer voice comes back so easily after all these years.

“Oh. Okay. Could we maybe talk at my car? I’m a bit late and my daughter’s always making a fuss when I put her in her seat, takes ages to convince her, so…”

Karl smiles and watches amused how the man bends over to pick up his briefcase again while trying not to jostle his daughter. An indignant squawk from the baby carrier proves he’s unsuccessful.

“Here, let me take that.”

Hayes smiles at him in relieved gratitude and hands him the baby carrier, then turns around and walks towards his car. Karl stands there for a moment, surprised. He was actually reaching for the briefcase, and now… he’s holding a baby. Huh.

He remembers his feet and follows Hayes, nervously peering down at the small infant in the carrier. Big brown eyes watch him carefully, the tiny face scrunched up as if the little girl isn’t sure she can trust him. Karl swallows and hopes she won’t start crying. And that he doesn’t drop her.

Hayes opens the trunk and starts rummaging around inside. “Is this about the Anderson boy? He’s not a bad kid, he just has some friends that are a bit… well, uh, unsavory?”

He yanks at something, breath puffing loudly, and finally manages to wench the baby seat free. He smiles, pleased with his success, and carries it around to the passenger side door. Karl follows him around the car and watches him put it in place. A soft gurgle from below makes him look at the baby again. Is she starting to cry? Please no… no. No, she isn’t. She’s smiling at him, toothless and happy, little chubby hands reaching for him. Karl throws a covert look towards Joe and Chris in their car and gives her his finger to hold. She laughs and clutches it, and Karl smiles. Babies.

“… didn’t mean it, and he already promised to pay for the repair of the windows, I really don’t want him to get anymore trouble...”

What? Oh. That. “No, no, it’s not about the Anderson boy. Actually, it’s… about you.”

Hayes straightens and looks at him, a worried frown on his face. “About me? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t, did I? I hope not! Did I? I think I drove a little too fast last week, over at Stanley Street, I think, I wasn’t sure… did I get a ticket?”

This guy, seriously. Too cute. “No, no ticket. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

Hayes rubs his hands nervously and watches him with wide eyes. “Oh. Okay, I guess. Sure.”

“This your car?”

“Um, yeah, that’s my car. My new one, that is, the old one never got found, and I needed it for the kids, Sammy’s got soccer practice and Lilly’s crib is too far away by foot and with my wife in the hospital I just…”

Never got found? Karl draws a breath and takes a step closer. A tiny flicker of hope surges in his chest. Could it be that…? Karl thinks, fast. How to play this?

“Yeah, about your old car. Your case got turned over to me, and I wanted to talk to you personally, see if you remembered anything new from the day it was stolen.”

He’d cross his fingers, but they are held in the tiny hands of a little girl, who’s now starting to gnaw on them. It doesn’t hurt, she doesn’t have teeth yet, it… actually feels nice.

“Oh, right. Um. I don’t think so, but I could try and remember?”

Karl smiles soothingly and puts the baby carrier down on the hood of the car, pulling out a notepad and a pen. “If you’d just start at the beginning and tell me the whole story, please? I know you already did that with my colleagues, but sometimes re-telling it can help people think of something they forgot before.”

“Yeah, sure, okay. No problem, I’m glad to help you, officer. Um. So… it was the 23. July, I was on my way home, I work at the shelter on Bembley Boulevard, you know? So I was driving home and I stopped at…”

Karl takes notes and listens. That tiny spark of hope starts to grow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The evil bad guy’s name is courtesy of zjofierose.  
> A/N 2: I have the feeling I did mention the city’s name somewhere, but I have no idea where. Um. In case I did, and in case you are actually familiar with this city, forgive me for making up random street names and not using the actual ones. I’m way too lazy to look up city maps and plan routes and stuff…

Karl sits sideways on the backseat, feet up on the headrest and flips through his notepad, face thoughtful. Joe watches him in the rearview mirror, then turns his head to look at Chris. His brother’s partner still hasn’t said much, his sunglasses are hiding his expression. But the exhausted lines around his mouth and the way his fingers twitch from time to time shows how strained he feels. The seemingly casual pose and arm hanging out from the car’s window certainly doesn’t fool Joe.

He just hopes Chris will be up for it.

Joe takes one hand from the steering wheel to make sure his gun, tucked into the waistband of his pants at his back, is within easy reach. He doesn’t want to have to fumble for it, later. When they make the bastard bleed. Warmth spreads through his belly as he imagines the asshole’s face when they come for him. He smiles to himself. Chris might deserve the first cut, but Joe will finish the guy off. Nobody hurts his baby brother and gets away with it. Nobody. Maybe they should get Zach, so he can watch. So he can see what Joe will do to protect him…

They still need to find the asshole, though.

They should have known the bastard wouldn’t use his own car, he must have known there was the possibility of witnesses. Stupid, really, thinking he’d incriminate himself like that. But, yeah, they were all pretty beside themselves. And what other lead should they have followed, the only thing they had was the car… which lead them to Hayes.

The soft-bellied, innocent little man has been pretty helpful. Karl played the cop, smiling and friendly and authoritative, Hayes was quite eager to help the “officer”. Joe snorts as he thinks back on how hopeful and grateful Hayes was, thinking they would get his stolen car back. So naïve, it’s almost cute. Zach would like him, would probably buy him a new car, too, since his attacker certainly already got rid of the stolen one.

But they have a new lead now. Turns out Hayes was looking for one of his problem kids from the shelter where he works and found him in a bar up on Stettler Street. He’d spent some time inside that bar, trying to talk the kid into coming back to the shelter, and when they’d come back out, the car had been gone. They have the name of the bar, the address, and now they’ll see if someone remembers something from that day. Or can be… persuaded to remember. Subtle questions from Karl have revealed that the area where the bar is located is the district of a certain gang, known for a variety of crimes and pretty protective of their territory. Even if the bastard they’re looking for isn’t among the members of this gang, they have to know something. A car being stolen in broad daylight, right in the middle of their territory, by someone not affiliated with them? They must have noticed. Maybe they even already found the guy. But they better not have gotten rid of him yet. That would be a huge disappointment.

Joe reaches for his gun again.

 

\-----

 

Joe turns the corner and they drive up Stettler Street. Karl sits up straight and watches the houses pass by. The ‘Moonshine’ should come in sight soon. In the front, Joe drums his fingers nervously on the steering wheel and Chris lowers his sunglasses for a proper look out of the window.

“Slow down,” Chris says, “let’s take a look at the area first.”

Seems like he’s back in action, Karl thinks, and eyes the way Chris’ body suddenly seems to lose all the strain it has carried before. Before he seemed tired, grim, but now he’s tense and focused. Ready. Good.

Joe obeys, the car loses speed. Karl takes a deep breath and looks out of the window. A second-hand clothing store, a McDonalds, a pawn shop. A coffee place, tables mostly empty. A woman with her dog, a couple walking hand in hand, some kids laughing about something in a shop-window. A flashy car, parked in a side-alley, boys in hip hop-style clothes gathered around…

“I think there’s our gang.” He says and points at the side-alley. Joe slows down even more and Chris turns his head in the direction Karl is indicating. One of his fingers slips beneath his jacket, probably reaching for one of his knives.

Chris smiles. “Let’s go say hi.”

Joe chuckles and Karl grins himself. This will be fun.

Joe spots a car just leaving a parking spot a little way further along the street and slows down to let it drive away and take the empty spot. Karl taps Chris shoulder and points up the street, the ‘Moonshine’ is only two buildings away. Chris nods and is just about to say something, when Joe suddenly steps on the break, making the others throw out a hand to catch themselves before they bang their heads against something. Joe curses loudly, furiously, and Karl looks through the windshield to see what happened.

A sleek, silver Mercedes is just now zipping into the empty parking spot Joe was waiting for, completely ignoring of the fact that they were here first. Joe continues to curse at the asshole and bangs an angry fist against the steering wheel. The other car’s driver side door opens and a man gets out, tan suit, slicked-back hair, haughty expression, he sees their car and smirks provocatively. Joe reaches for the button to roll down the window, probably wants to tell the bastard exactly where he can shove his shiny European car when Chris suddenly freezes and grabs his arm.

“Drive.”

Karl furrows his brow and looks at Chris. Joe glares at him and tries to rip his arm from Chris’ grip, to no avail. “What?! Did you see that? Did you see that asshole? I can’t believe he…”

“Drive, Joe. _Now_.”

What the fuck? Chris sounds strange. His lips are pressed tightly together, knuckles white where they clamp around Joe’s arm. He’s turned his face carefully away from the window, doesn’t want to be seen, but throws covert looks outside towards the Mercedes’ driver. What is going on? Is he… scared?

“Drive, for fuck’s sake, we need to get out of here, now!”

Chris sounds urgent and dead serious, he lets go of Joe’s arm, reaches around him and pulls the gun from Joe’s pants. He still keeps his face turned away from the guy and holds the gun in a tight-knuckled grip, pressed along his right leg, out of sight from the street. Then he clicks the safety off. What the fuck? Joe seems to pick up on the urgency of the situation and accelerates the car, pulling out into the traffic again until they are speeding away. Chris doesn’t relax until they have turned the next corner and are safely out of sight. Only then does he click the safety back on.

But he does not let go of the gun.

“Fuck,” Chris mutters, rips his sunglasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “fuck.” He punches the dashboard, hard. Karl watches him and wonders.

Joe suddenly jerks the car around and rolls onto the parking lot of a nearby grocery store. He turns off the engine, yanks the keys out of the ignition and turns to glare at Chris. Karl furrows his brow and looks at his friend as well.

“Well, Chris? What the fuck was that? Why did you make me drive away? The gang was right there, for fuck’s sake! We could have taken them!”

Karl’s leans forward, voice calm and quiet. “Who was that guy, Chris?”

Chris sighs when he starts talking. Karl cranes his head to watch his face, Joe an angry, fidgeting shape in the corner of his eye. Chris closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he opens them again and turns to look at Karl and Joe. He looks unsettled, troubled.

Chris swallows and says: “That guy is the bastard we’re after.”

Joe blinks. “Really? Are you sure? What’s up with you, then? Why didn’t we take him? We found him, great, awesome, let’s go back and gut that son of a bitch.” He sounds angry and elated at the same time.

Karl doesn’t quite feel the same way. Chris certainly doesn’t seem happy about it, and that worries him. A lot. “So what’s the problem? We found him. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Chris laughs, it sounds brittle. “No, that’s not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.”

 

\-----

 

 _Before_

There is a guy. Mikail Takash. He has a brother, Simon. Big brother Simon. Head of the family, the one with a name and a reputation, the one people talked about. Awe in their voices, awe and fear. Simon who smirks and wears European suits, who is always careful to hide his Russian accent. Better for business, he says, to sound American. What business? You don’t have to talk to the people you kill. But you can, of course. It can be fun.

Big brother Simon. With the drugs and the girls and the murders. The one people look to when they wait for orders. The family, the clan, the whole damn world. Even the cops watch him, but Simon is careful. They don’t have proof. They don’t even know what things he’s done. How many he has killed.

But Mikail knows. He’s seen them all. Nobody sees him, he hides in the shadows and watches, and if someone sees him there, they flinch and turn away. Simon says he scares people. Mikail doesn’t know why. But nobody looks at him if they can avoid him, try to ignore when he’s around. This is good, because it means he can watch. He’s seen the drugs, he’s seen the girls, he’s seen the murders. He’s seen everything Simon did. Blood on the walls, on a bed. White powder running out of plastic bags riddled with bullet holes.

Sometimes he helps. Sometimes Simon lets him, when Mikail has one of his “better” days. Most of the time, though, Simon makes him stay at home. Alone in the large mansion, only the dogs for company and the few people on their house hold staff. The dogs try to bite him, and the staff are scared of him. Mikail hides in his room and counts the cracks in the ceiling.

Simon says he’s sick. Says the doctor will help him. Mikail doesn’t believe that. But Simon says he should try, so he tries. He loves big brother Simon. Big brother Simon kills people who look at him too long, who stare and point and whisper. Mikail hates that, Simon does too, so he kills them. Once he used a knife and Mikail watched the blood seep into the carpet. The stain’s still there, sometimes he touches it, when he’s alone. Simon did this, for him. Mikail loves his brother.

If Mikail’s been good, if he hasn’t tried to hurt his doctor, if he’s taken the electro shocks and the needles without complaint, Simon gets him a girl. One of the prostitutes he brings from the old country, scared and alone and pale and unwilling. Mikail loves these days. He tries to be good, for Simon. For the girls.

The first time Simon comes in the morning after Mikail has been good, he doesn’t get mad. The girl lies broken on the bed, Mikail has tried to put her fingers back where they belong, but he didn’t have needle and thread. She’s not dead, she twitches and whimpers. She sounds like a small, frightened animal. Mikail pets her hair and paints swirls through the blood on her legs, when Simon comes in.

Big brother Simon looks at them on the bed and sighs. Tells him to be more careful, not to damage the merchandise. He sounds disappointed, he won’t get any more money out of this girl. Mikail’s ashamed. He didn’t mean to, it just… happened. But big brother Simon forgives him. Mikail smiles.

It happens again. And again. Pale girls, skinny girls, little animal mewls. They break so easily. Simon chastises him, Mikail hangs his head. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to break them. They are so fragile and his hands so big. He’s sorry…

Simon brings him different girls. Not the ones he brought from Russia, the ones he wants to sell, more or less intact. He finds them on the street, here in America. Runaways, maybe. Mikail doesn’t care. They don’t break as easily as the first ones, they fight back sometimes. Didn’t get the treatment the others got by Simon’s assistants before they come to him. But they still break, they still bleed. They still sound like little animals. Mikail doesn’t mind. Simon said he’s been good, he deserves a reward. Simon said so.

 

\-----

 

Mikail doesn’t know what the devil wants from him. He grabbed him on the street, the bodyguards Simon gave him lie dead against the wall. Simon will be mad at Mikail, but it wasn’t his fault. It was the devil. The devil who stares at him, the devil who has blood on his hands, the devil who shoved something long and sharp and silver into his stomach, it hurts, it hurts. The devil stares at him from blue eyes, burning bright like the fires of hell. Mikail whimpers and tries to escape, but the devil presses him against the wall. Something hisses, it’s in his ear, a snake, a snake, where is it? Mikail sobs. Don’t bite me, snake!

It’s not a snake. It’s a voice. The devil snarls at him, his teeth are long and white and pointy, his eyes burn so bright Mikail’s skin starts to boil, he can see it fall off in large, black flakes, they make a wet sound when they hit the sidewalk. Mikail screams, his skin! But the devil slams him against the wall and he gets dizzy. His limbs won’t move. Can’t escape the devil.

The devil hisses something about a girl that he killed, a girl with a father, a father who wants revenge, but Mikail shakes and shakes and shakes his head. He didn’t, he never, he didn’t mean it! He never meant to break them!

The devil ignores him. He twists the knife, rips it out. He watches Mikail slide down the wall in a trail of red. He bends down, dripping knife in hand. Mikail raises a hand, fingers forming the sign against evil his Mama taught him. It doesn’t work – the devil slashes with the knife, it leaves a silvery trail in the air. He doesn’t feel any pain. Mikail stares dumbly at his fingers on the ground, they are still twitching. He doesn’t have a needle, how will he put them back where they belong?

The devil grabs him between the legs, in his secret place. Mikail tries to scramble away, but he can’t move his legs. His pants are wet and warm, he hopes he didn’t pee himself, Simon gets mad when he does. The devil laughs at him and pushes the knife against his secret place.

Mikail Takash howls when the knife comes down. He sounds like a rabid dog. Howls and shrieks and then falls silent, all he does now is make tiny whimpers. Like a small animal. He clutches his hand and his stomach, blinking at the red seeping out of him. It still doesn’t hurt, everything’s numb. Numb. Something hits his lap, a wet smack. Warmth spreads on his legs. He doesn’t want to look at it, but his head turns anyway. Mikail gasps and sobs. He’s getting warmer, hot now, so hot, fire on his skin. Fire? Burning? Is this hell? No, no, please no. So hot, so hot, his blood is boiling. Hell is close, it’s getting dark now. Please, devil, don’t. Not hell. No, please…

The last thing Mikail sees are his own cut-off balls. Then his eyes close. Forever. Big brother Simon will be so mad.

Chris gets up and wipes his knife on the other’s pants leg. He walks away whistling.

 

\-----

 

 _Now_

“How many?”

Chris frowns at Karl in confusion.

“How many, Chris, how many girls did that asshole kill?”

Oh. Chris sighs and lifts his shoulders. “I have no idea. A dozen. Maybe more, I really don’t know. The man who hired me tried to find out, wanted to locate the families back in Russia, but, well, you know how it is when the police finds a dead, nameless prostitute. He didn’t have much to go on.”

Karl flops back in the couch and rubs his eyes. “Jesus.”

Zach rubs Chris shoulders comfortingly. Chris manages a twisted smile and leans into the touch a little. His partner’s face is serious, eyes dark and angry. Chris can relate. God, what a day. What a day…

Joe has been quiet while Chris told his story, unlike Karl, who had stalked across the room, muttering and cursing, unable to sit still. But now Joe leans forward and eyes Chris. “So, why didn’t you kill his brother? That asshole obviously deserves it just as much as Mikail.”

Chris frowns unhappily. “I meant to. I tried, but the police got him before I could make my move. Tax evasion, or something, he’s been in jail ever since.” And wasn’t that a disappointment, back then. He’d really wanted to kill that bastard. “To be honest, I didn’t even know he was out. I thought he’d have at least another two years. Must have gotten out early.”

Karl snorts. “Or bribed a judge.”

Zach shoves at Chris until the other opens his arms and lets him rest against his stomach. Chris presses an absent kiss to Zach’s hair. He can’t stop touching him. Chris remembers the photos he saw, the girls, barely eighteen, broken and bloody. He grits his teeth and pulls Zach closer. Zach presses against him, tight and warm and safe. Chris can feel his heartbeat. Alive. Alive.

His lover makes himself comfortable and cranes his head to look at the others. “Are we sure this is the bastard who… are we sure it’s him?”

Chris tightens his arms around Zach. He sure as hell noticed the little hesitation there, and fuck… he knows the feeling. Even now, Zach safe and sound in his arms, he can’t think of that night without again feeling that helplessness. And that rage, that thirst for revenge.

“Yeah, pretty sure. I mean, this guy swore to me he’d get me for killing Mikail, said he’d take the person I… I loved most from me the same way I did with his brother, so…”

Joe nods. “Yeah okay. I’d kill him either way. The world will be a better place without that… that monster.”

Karl laughs harshly. “Amen to that.”

Chris whole-heartedly agrees. That fucker needs to die. Painfully. Slowly. As slowly as he can manage. Soon, soon…

Zach sits up and rubs his hands. “So, how are we gonna do it?”

What the fuck? “We? We?!” Chris straightens and glares at his lover. What the hell is he thinking?!  “’We’ aren’t gonna do anything! You’ll stay right here, out of danger, you’re not getting near that bastard!”

Zach opens his mouth to protest. Chris glares at him, Zach looks away. Chris grabs his chin to force his head around, fingers tightening to the point of pain. Karl moves uncomfortably on the couch and Joe opens his mouth as if to protest, but Chris ignores them and gives his recalcitrant lover a shake.  “You hear me? Never again, Zach! You’re not doing a damn thing!”

“Fuck, okay! Okay, I got it, I got it, Jesus!”

Zach yanks his chin from Chris’ grasp and slides away from him on the couch. He rubs his chin and glares at the floor, free hand balled into a fist. Chris stares at him for a moment longer, not happy with Zach’s reaction – and his own, but no way in fucking hell will he let Zach come with them. Jesus Christ, barely on his way back to health and then this! He loves Zach, and he admires his determination to be a part of this, to get his own revenge, but no way. No way will he let Takash get close to Zach again. No fucking way.

Karl clears his throat, still looking uncomfortable. “Okay, so, um. Recon. Let’s find out where the bastard lives, where he eats, where he gets his dry-cleaning done. We need to know everything about him, his weak spots, his hiding places, everything. And then, when we find our in, we grab him and…”

Joe throws the pouting Zach a look and rubs the stubble on his chin, face thoughtful. “I have a warehouse we can use. Nobody will hear a thing there.”

Chris smiles, slow and dangerous. “Gentlemen, I like the way you think. Let’s do this.”

Next to him, Zach snorts.

 


End file.
